Love Me Dead
by Color Me Tardis
Summary: Arguments and fighting, constant screaming and threats of violence – that was what their relationship had come to. It was hard to believe they were ever in love. - Effie/Haymitch. Rated M for some swearing and references to sex.
1. Parasitic Psycho

**Title**: Love Me Dead  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Haymitch/Effie  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Arguments and fighting, constant screaming and threats of violence – that was what their relationship had come to. It was hard to believe they were ever in love.  
><strong>AN**: This is an ongoing story about the relationship between Effie and Haymitch, starting with one of their nastier times. If you're looking for smut and such, I wouldn't read this one. Some of the chapters will be nicer, I promise, but not this particular one! I just really love the idea, and I guess it can be considered slightly AU because it doesn't follow all of the events of the books. Anyway try to enjoy. A new chapter should be up soon!

_Must be the sign on my head,  
>It says, "Oh, love me dead."<em>

Arguments and fighting, constant screaming and threats of violence – that was what their relationship had come to. It was hard to believe they were ever in love. Every room in their house was filled with a remarkable tension and familiar hatred. She often went to sleep crying at his words, and he found himself barely sleeping at all. But they stayed together. For a while they convinced themselves that this was all they could ever want, all they could ever deserve. The fighting didn't matter if they had a place to live, and a place to try to love each other for just a while longer. Something held them onto a thin strand of false hope that one day they would wake up, stare at each other and finally feel the butterflies that fluttered in their stomachs when they first met. But that never happened. And it never would happen, no matter how much they tried.

So eventually they stopped trying.

"I'm leaving." She told him, although he was fully aware. He had been watching her pack a bag for fifteen minutes before she decided to speak. All of her clothes, hangers and all, were hastily shoved into the bag. No tidiness necessary, she figured. Who would care about her cleanliness when she had been a mess for years?

There was no remorse, no sympathy or need to talk her out of this. They were both perfectly aware that the decision was the best for both of them. And this announcement was no different than the one she made the day before, or the week before that.

For a moment they stood in silence, staring at each other from across the room. He let his eyes wander up and down her body. She was so different from the Capitol woman he had once known. Her blonde hair fell in tangled curls, her eyes were swollen and her face sullen, all the product of little sleep and too much crying. Her body was slim to the point where he almost thought she might fall apart, and the dull dress she wore didn't help her appearance. Everything about her screamed depressed, she hadn't held on to a single part of herself from her earlier years. The wigs were retired, the bright colors switched for grays and blacks that he wasn't sure he liked. So much was different about Effie Trinket, and he hated all of it.

"Look what we've done to each other." He finally said, hand running through his messy hair. "We're ruined, you know that? Destroyed for all of humanity."

"That's not true." She tried to deny it, but she felt a sinking in her heart. The mess that they had become would take an eternity to clean up, and neither of them had that sort of time – though no one would want to fix them if they even could.

"It's not? Really? Look at us, Effie. We're fucked. And it's because we made the decision to get into this stupid relationship in the first place."

"It wasn't stupid! We had reasons at the time and it just didn't work out. That happens."

"Look me in the eye and honestly tell me that you don't think this was a huge mistake." For a while she couldn't look at him, she could only stare at the floor and think how perfectly ridiculous everything had become. They had loved each other, hadn't they? At one point she had been sure of it, positive they would last forever. He had been her little slice of Heaven. But she supposed it was too good to be true.

Finally she raised her head and whispered, "Only if you tell me that you loved me. That I wasn't just…making it all up."

He turned away from her, searching a cabinet for what she assumed would be a fresh bottle of liquor, but he came up empty and banged his forehead lightly against the wall. She could hear him muttering something before he turned back around to face her. "I still love you."

"What?" It hurt that he had wanted alcohol to say that to her.

"Come on, Effie. You think I'm going to just stop loving you? Maybe you've gotten dumber recently."

"Haymitch, stop it." But he wasn't going to. He could see her eyes watering once again, could see her resolve to leave slipping away and he knew it was for the best. Effie had to leave, or they would forever self destruct.

"No, I'm just telling the truth. Maybe you've always been dumb. Dating a drunk, falling in love with a man who would choose a bottle over you any day. Downright stupid, if you ask me."

"God dammit, Haymitch!" She raised her hands in exasperation. "I'm leaving you and you're calling me inept! I'll never understand why I loved you; I'll never even understand why I stayed with you so long. You're a cruel, sadistic bastard who deserves to rot here."

"Like this argument is any different than the one we had last night, or the night before? You always say the same thing, then you put that bag down, you sit on the couch and we drink in silence. Every day. I'm sick of it. Just leave already."

"This time I am going to leave, Haymitch. And you can drink yourself to death for all I care!"

"But you do care, that's the problem. Fucking give up on me already. I don't need your pity anymore." Maybe this time she would actually go, be happy with someone who could treat her right. But the thought of that, or even of Effie being alone for the rest of her life, killed him.

"I can't just…"

"Yes you can."

"No, Haymitch, I don't pity-"

"Fine, you want to know what I think of you, honestly? I think you're a prissy little bitch who should have stayed in the Capitol where you belong. You're materialistic and whiney, you don't care about anybody but yourself-"

"Fuck you." That was another thing he hated that had changed about her. All the love for manners and etiquette, all of the cringing at harsh words and the anger over the usage of curses – it all disappeared. Now she had gotten used to swearing at him, throwing his words back at him as though they meant nothing. His Effie Trinket was dirty, and he had caused it.

Without another word, she picked up her bag and stormed out of the bedroom. He followed her at a staggering pace, not surprised when she turned to stare at him. More silence.

"It wasn't a mistake. I don't care how much we fought, or how much we dislike each other, it was never a mistake. And I don't regret a second of it."

The man shrugged in response, watching the realization flicker in her face. He agreed with her, after all he did still love her. But he needed her to leave, to be elsewhere and try to salvage the rest of her life. But she dropped her bag to the ground and sat on the couch.

With a huff, he grabbed a bottle from the kitchen and a glass, taking the arm chair across from her. It did occur to him that he could easily kick her out of his house, but his resolve was also fading. He could barely look at her without wanting to scream, but he couldn't imagine living alone. After a moment he slid a half filled glass across the coffee table and began to drink straight from the bottle. She curled into herself, sipping from the glass like a fucking toddler.

God, he hated her. He hated how her hair looked, hated the way she spoke with that old Capitol accent and hated her deep laugh.

She looked at him with the eyes that he remembered loving. Lower down was the cleavage he had spent ages pretending not to stare at, the thighs he had loved to kiss when they slept together. He remembered the moans she let escape her whenever he would do something she liked. Arousal swept through his body and he thought about taking her on the couch, whispering into her ear that they could love each other again.

But instead he sat in silence, drinking himself into oblivion as she cried until exhaustion took her. The same as the day before, and the day before that…

God, he hated this.


	2. A Lady in Teal

A/N: Here you guys go! Thank you so much for the amazing reviews. You're all so beautiful! This is a bit of a background moment. I think I'm basing most of this fic on, "Love the Way You Lie" although it started as something else, whatever. I like where it's going. So enjoy this filler bit to make up for lack of internet. The next chapter will be better, I promise.

_I wish you'd never forget,  
>The look on my face when we first met.<em>

Outside a bar in the center of the Capitol, Haymitch Abernathy was bent over and vomiting onto the concrete sidewalk – much to the dismay of passing citizens. His chest constricted as the last wretch shook his body, and he grunted as pain shot through him. This behavior wasn't unusual, but he would never be used to the violent tugging as his stomach tried to eject itself from his toxic body. He didn't blame his organs; most of the time he despised himself.

For a minute or two he continued to hunch over, watching the contents of his stomach wash into the street with the heavy rain. Although, he had never noticed the rain up until then. When he arrived at the bar, he had already been fairly intoxicated. A moment passed while he wondered if it had already been raining or if it just started. As he thought about it, and tried to figure out if it would ever even matter, Haymitch watched the water drip from his hanging hair. He had let it grow too long, the blonde was already fading into a pale gray. Too much stress, too much drinking, too little caring.

Annoyed with his own thoughts, he hastily ran across his rumpled suit jacket. Why was he even wearing a suit? More thoughts came; he continued to wonder if these details even mattered and then he heard a frustrated squeak from a nearby woman that distracted him.

The very first time he laid eyes on Effie Trinket; she was jumping backwards just before his sick ran over her perfectly manicured toes peeking out of her equally perfect heels.

She was ordinary, which he found unusual and, in effect, made her more extraordinary than any other woman on that block. The Capitol was filled with creeps and freaks, but this woman seemed so unnaturally normal. Of course, she would never fit into a District setting but she was plain for the Capitol standards. Put her in a crowd, and he would never pick her out as interesting.

She was holding a soggy bundle of newspaper above her teal wig, trying desperately to keep the dye from coming out. Squinting through the rain, he could see blonde strands of her natural hair sticking out from underneath the askew mass on her head. Half of her face was smeared with running makeup, and she looked embarrassed that he was scanning her from his position on the sidewalk.

Despite the disgust she managed to find a path around the mess he had made and ask him if he was alright. He straightened up, staring blatantly at her wig. She moved to fix its position self consciously, accidentally dropping a corner of the newspaper in the process. A shriek that rattled through his body escaped her as a puddle of water fell and drenched both her wig and her paisley dress. He couldn't help but laugh, and although she didn't know him, Effie smacked him hard on the arm and scolded him for laughing at a lady.

"You're not a lady, you're a Capitol drone. More mutant than human, I'd say." It was the first thing he'd said to this woman, and the reaction was more than satisfying. For a second she was appalled, and then angry. Before she had a chance to yell at him and make a fool of herself on the crowded city street, the woman composed herself and took a step away.

"You look familiar." She said after a second of silence. He could tell that she had been debating running off and finding shelter. Away from the drunk, out of the rain.

"Trust me, I'm not familiar." He grunted, turning back towards the bar. She reached out to grab his arm and he swatted her away. "You don't know me."

"Yes, I do. I don't know from where…" Haymitch sighed, trying to find a way out of this situation. He was the Victor of a fairly famous year of the Games. Everybody in the Capitol knew him, but he had let himself go enough for people to still be confused. It bought him enough time to escape their words. "Who are you?"

"It doesn't matter." He tried to leave again, but she reached out for his arm once more. "Why do you care? I don't even know you!" He wanted to drink again, he wanted to forget what emotions were, and he wanted to ignore that he was stuck in the place he hated due to the man he hated even more. President Snow. This woman was now in the way. He was no longer curious about her, he was frustrated.

"I'm Effie Trinket." She said, holding a hand out for him to shake. He looked at it like it might bite him if he touched it. "And you are?"

"Nice trick, but I'm still not telling." He smirked, nodding up to her wig. "You're a bit lopsided, aren't you, sweetheart?" The distraction was enough for him to slip back inside; where he knew the prim and proper woman outside would never follow. But, as he ordered his drink, he wondered who Effie Trinket was and why he found somebody so ugly also so attractive. The thought scared him to a point where he ordered two more drinks to follow, and two more after that, until he forgot all about the woman in teal and the face he found so incredibly beautiful.


	3. Want Your Wreckage

A/N: I know this isn't a happy chapter, but I promise they get happier. I really do. This is like the point where they're gonna try to help themselves. I hope. Anyway, enjoy. And thank you all for the amazing reviews. They really help me want to keep going.

_And maybe I will taste you,  
>In another time and place.<br>You look so good,  
>I bet you taste like something sweet.<em>

A week of silence passed between the couple. Effie had stopped trying to leave, and Haymitch had stopped pushing her away. It wasn't worth the effort, they realized. It didn't matter that they were ultimately unhappy and miserable; the routine had become a part of their lives. Straying from that would be far too difficult and neither wanted to spend the time to learn something new. Especially if that came with new people.

But there were still problems, and nothing could change the downhill slope of their conversations. Every statement turned into an argument that ended in tears and Haymitch sleeping on the couch. They were never together; he never felt the warmth of her body. And sometimes he missed it so much that he imagined her coming to see him in the middle of the night, nursing him into sobriety with her lips and fingers until he felt the waves of pleasure crash over him. After his fantasies, he would feel disgusted with himself and with her. If she would just fuck him like they used to, maybe things would be okay.

"Are you cheating on me?" She asked one night, standing against the wall as he stared blankly out the window. The bottle in his hand was nearly full, and he could already feel the frustration of her presence wearing on him. Not enough alcohol in his system to deal with her, and when he responded to her question with a grunt, her body tensed. "Haymitch, I'm being serious."

"Who am I supposed to be cheating on you with?" There were women, of course, who would sleep with anybody for a bit of cash or good food but he wasn't into them. In fact, he never went out looking to cheat at all. Surprisingly enough, he only wanted Effie.

"I don't know." There was a pause that he was sure he was supposed to fill, but he didn't know what to say. What exactly did she want from him? "There are women out there who would want to sleep with you."

"Yeah, because being a drunk is desirable." He tilted his head to the side to watch as she bit her fingernails down to their beds. The anger he felt towards her at that moment forced him to look away. Every day she made herself look less lovely, more destroyed and hideous. He wanted to shove her against the wall and scold her for biting her nails, mock her stupid accent and treat her like she used to treat him.

Before she stopped caring.

"I just wanted to know, we haven't exactly been…intimate lately." He couldn't help but laugh at her words, and he slowly got up to grab another bottle of liquor despite the fact that the one he had was still full. Halfway to the cabinet he became distracted by her next words. "I don't know why we haven't been-"

"Really? You don't know?" Turning to look at her again, he noticed how unbelievably thin she looked in the yellow dress she wore. It was one of the only colorful things she had left, and it used to be his favorite on her. Short and sexy, showing off her legs and cleavage a bit too much. Now she looked pale and worn out in it, much too small for it to fit properly. He wanted to tell her to change, but her attempt to look nice seemed like a kind gesture and he held his tongue.

"I think if you'd try to-" He dropped the bottle to the floor, not caring that the liquid was going to stain. The bottle didn't break, but Effie stared at it as though it was burning right through the carpet. She pressed herself closer to the wall as he approached; tensing as he gripped her arms and let out a small squeak as he shook her.

"Do you like this, Effie? Do you really want to feel like this every time I touch you?" She struggled to pull away but he shoved her harder against the wall. Her face contorted into a mixture of arousal and fear, and he felt himself becoming consumed with lust. One of his hands crept up her face and wrapped itself into her hair, tugging on the strands until her head was tilted back. The sound that escaped her mouth had him growing hard. It was filled with so much pain that he almost felt guilty for finding it attractive.

Almost.

"No, Haymitch." She whispered, hands pressing against his chest in a lazy attempt to push him away. She gasped as his lips pressed to her jaw line before he began to bite down her neck. It hurt, he could tell she was in pain, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered but the whimpers and the arousal. He remembered the way she used to sound, how she would dig her fingernails into his neck and beg for him to keep going. He would stop; wait for her to say please, before giving her anything she wanted. But now, now she was quiet and he wanted her to be loud, he wanted her to enjoy it.

He wanted her to feel him.

"Tell me that you want me." He groaned into her ear, releasing her hair long enough to flip them around and push her towards the dining table. Sensing the direction of his actions, Effie tried to sidestep out of his way but he was too strong for her. The wild look in his eyes scared her, but a part of her wanted this as much as he did. She wanted to fill the ache, and to release the anger. She wanted him to climax with her once again, just like they used to. Haymitch was such a talented lover; she missed his quick lips and craving fingers.

"I want you." She hissed, hands bringing his face down to hers as they reached the table. He propped her up, nails digging into her thighs as their tongues wrestled against each other. He tasted like liquor and the occasional cigarette, she tasted like strawberries. For a moment he wondered where she had found strawberries this time of year, but her legs were wrapping around his waist and her mouth moved to his neck and he forgot everything.

He forgot how much he hated her; he forgot how much he hated himself. Everything was about lust and need and the craving they both had to hurt, and to feel. But even through the intoxicating scent of her hair and the way her teeth clamped around his lower lip, he knew this was wrong. Neither of them wanted to sleep together, they just wanted to feel something other than the void. They were using each other to cause more pain, just like they always did.

God, he fucking hated her.

This version of Effie was quiet but quick, almost desperate, and he missed how soft she used to be. He missed how she would kiss him and moan, how she would whisper how much she loved him and how she would never get used to the way he made her feel. Now she was undoing the button of his trousers without caring much for the rest of him.

It didn't matter. Haymitch didn't want to explore her body, either. In fact, he only cared to pull away enough to slide her panties from her. The dress could stay. He pushed the fabric up over her thighs as she pushed his pants down to his knees. They didn't care, neither of them cared. So, he didn't give a damn when he entered her too fast and she cried out in pain. Her fingernails – jagged from the biting – scraped down the back of his neck. The sting of the cuts had him shoving her shoulders down into the mahogany as his hips picked up thrusting. She struggled against his hold but didn't put in nearly as much effort as he'd hoped. The heels of her feet dug into the back of his thighs and he groaned as he continued to bury himself deep inside of her.

"God, Effie…" He mumbled, letting words fall from his lips without much thought. "I love you."

Her body stiffened and her face contorted into something between hurt and sadness. He stopped moving, watching as she blinked away tears before her heels dug into his thighs and he was forced to move again. But the look on her face didn't leave, and he found his arousal slipping away from him. Eventually he had to stop and pull away, and this time she didn't stop him. She was crying too hard to want him to continue, and he stood there with his pants down – awkwardly waiting for her to say something.

But she didn't say anything at all. She slid off the table and walked into their bedroom and didn't come out for the rest of the night. Haymitch could hear her crying but didn't feel the need to go see if she was okay. A part of him didn't even care. As he fixed himself and grabbed a new bottle, he couldn't help but wish she would join him for a drink. Something about their failed encounter had him wanting to spend more time with her.

Maybe it helped them more than she thought. After all, he did admit that he loved her again.


	4. Almost Liar

A/N: It's not written very well, and it wasn't even how I planned for this to go. So I'm not sure what the next chapter will bring, actually. I guess I have to really think about it. My writing has gone a tad downhill lately though – and I blame it all on some personal stuff. Okay, read my darlings. Enjoy! x

"Get dressed," She said as she flung a pair of trousers and freshly ironed shirt in his direction. The man growled something inaudible and she glared at him with about as much amusement as a mouse about to be eaten by a cat. For a moment he wondered if maybe she was the cat, and behind her eyes was some devilish glee he had yet to see. But he knew in this situation she was the mouse – taken over and cornered, trying to ensure some new outcome in this awful situation. Trying not to get eaten by the drunken, unruly kitty... "We're going out."

"But why?" He whined, pushing the pants to the ground with a huff. "I like it in here." It was dirty and dank, a place he had yet to clean and probably would never touch. But looking around he began to notice the stink was disappearing, and the grime was completely gone. Even his piles of liquor bottles had found new homes in trash bags that he hadn't realized were lining the room.

Sensing his confusion, Effie smirked a bit before explaining. "I cleaned while you were asleep. I'm tired of this place going to shit, and I'm tired of us doing the same. I miss the way we used to be."

"You sound like a broken record." He growled, not at all pleased with the way the house looked. It wasn't clean, but it was tidier than it had been in a long time. The memory of Effie from years ago crept into his mind as he surveyed the freshly dusted coffee table. It had been the first time she stepped foot in his house and she had felt the need to flitter around in disgust, tidying the place up. She had told him that she hated when people were living in their own filth, he had said something about the Capitol forcing District 12 to live like that all the time, and she had exited his house in tears.

Even then he had been more in love with her than he was at this present moment.

Still, he ignored her attempts to clean and staggered his way into the bathroom. Effie hadn't told him where they were going or what she planned for them to do but even he could admit it was a good idea. Perhaps they would get along if they were surrounded by fresh air and new people. Although he doubted any good would come of it, he knew she craved the attention the Capitol often gave. And being back with the people she often admired would put a smile back on that sullen face.

When he emerged clean shaven and well groomed, he was surprised to see Effie wearing a bright blue wig and matching dress. Stepping behind her, Haymitch was surprised to find she had also grown a good five inches due to the heels firmly strapped to her feet. Her makeup was extravagant and her earrings looked expensive. But he had never seen this ensemble before, and he was wary as to how, or when, she got it.

"What's all this?"

"It's just a little present." Effie trilled, already happier now that she was back in her old ways. The Capitol was less than a day's travel away and then she would be home again. It killed him to see her so happy to go back to that rotten place, and so awfully sick of his District.

"From who?" She paused in the mirror, fixing one of the curls on her wig as she thought of an appropriate answer. Everything would elicit a terrible response from the man behind her, they both knew that. And Haymitch had yet to drink enough to deal with what she had to say.

"Do you really care?" Her tone was low and deep again, showing more of the Effie Trinket he had come to know in the past few months and less of the made up doll in front of him.

"Yes. Who sent you these clothes?" Haymitch was suddenly furious with the thoughts of who it could be, who could have afforded to buy her a beautiful outfit while he was obliviously passing out in their living room.

"Just a person I know."

"A guy." He corrected, shaking his head. "I can't believe this. You're fucking cheating on me."

"No, no! Haymitch, I am not cheating. It's a gift. A present from a friend-"

"A friend you're sleeping with. Goddamn it, Effie. After all I've given you, all I've done for you!" He stalked back towards the living room, loosening his tie as he walked. There was no place he was going with Effie fucking Trinket, especially if she was wearing clothes from a man she had the audacity to cheat on him with.

"Will you listen to me, Haymitch?" She called, trying to rush after him in impossibly high heels.

"No. I don't want to hear from you." He growled, trying to find another bottle to drown himself in. When he was sure that there was nothing to drink, he turned to face her in a rage. "You…have been cheating on me. And you made me feel like I've been the one who is doing everything wrong. Are you kidding me? I can't believe I've felt so guilty-"

"You've felt guilty, really?" She was incredulous, and she stalked forwards as though about to attack him for being such an idiot. "You've done nothing to help our relationship. All I wanted was to go out, and you're treating me like some sort of monster."

"That's because you've been sleeping around like a little-"

"You never let me finish!" She shrieked, trying to blink away the tears. She turned to rush back into the bedroom and ignore this conversation completely but Haymitch lunged forwards and grabbed her arm.

"Then finish, Effie. But don't you dare run away again. It's about time we talk." She pulled away from his grip but remained standing in the same spot as she weighed her words carefully. This wasn't going to end well, no matter what she said.

"I'm not cheating on you, Haymitch." She paused, wiping away the tears as she managed to look at him.

"That outfit says otherwise."

"No, you idiot. This outfit says that I have one friend who didn't forget that today is my birthday."

Suddenly feeling stupid, Haymitch turned away from her with a frown. He had no idea what day it was, and she had never brought up that her birthday was approaching. But he could never forgive himself for accusing her of something so ridiculous on the one day when she deserved kindness. He heard Effie make her escape into their bedroom and let his shoulders slump. He didn't blame her for running away. Hell, he wanted nothing more than to leave and never come back so at least a part of her birthday would be happy.

Effie had fallen into an exhausted sleep by the time Haymitch had concocted a plan and gone through with it. By the time night fell, he was cleaned up and ready to give her a surprise that he hoped would make up for his stupidity. She woke to the sound of him knocking on the door and telling her to come join him in the living room. All she wanted was to sleep and ignore him, but the smell of freshly cooked dinner met her nostrils and she was too curious to stay in the room.

On the dining room table was a messy dinner. And in the living room was a man who was clean and well dressed, holding a square of cake with some form of frosting coating it and a candle stuck in the middle. He held it out with a sheepish grin, trying not to blow out the flame as she approached him. Needless to say she was surprised, and a bit overwhelmed.

And oddly enough, she was thrilled.

"I'm sorry, Effie. For everything."

"I know." She murmured, blowing out the candle and making her silent wish. "I don't forgive you, but thank you for all of this. It's lovely, Haymitch." He pressed his lips to hers lightly, and was surprised when she pulled him in for a deeper kiss. "I don't say it often enough, but I do love you."

"Happy birthday, sweetheart."


	5. Falling Slowly

A/N: Warning for sexual things. Sort of a nice filler chapter, I guess. I have no idea where I am going with this! Haha.

Making up for Effie's birthday mishap did nothing to repair their relationship. In fact, the tension from their arguments was alive and thriving each day. Of course they weren't going to be okay because Haymitch did one nice thing. There was too much damage to be repaired in one night.

Little things did change for the better, though. She didn't run off crying as much, and she spent most of her time either cleaning or working on her old appearance. The outfit from her friend, who he still was curious about, seemed to have rebooted Effie Trinket. She dug out her wigs from an old box stuffed in the back of the closet, and wore them around the house every second of every day. Drab dresses, and cotton candy wigs. Sometimes he couldn't look at her without laughing.

Their humor had changed too. Although there were times when they couldn't look at each other without screaming, they were also able to share dinners and some light conversation filled with happiness and laughter. Haymitch didn't drown himself in liquor like he had been – although he would never completely give it up. And Effie began to eat for fun rather than necessity. The cheery look she once had was slowly returning, despite nothing truly being fixed.

They even began sleeping together again. Not sexually, but Effie allowed him to share the bed with her. After awkward attempts at cuddling, they were finally beginning to get their rhythm back. It seemed that everything was fine for the meantime, neither of the two were complaining. It was better than constant fighting and ignoring each other, whilst self destructing. They were remotely normal, sort of peaceful. It was a welcome change.

"Haymitch," Effie said over dinner one night. "My friend invited us to stay with him in the Capitol. It's his treat to us, so it wouldn't cost us any money. He just wants us to get out of this house for once. I said we would go." He had been staring at her peach colored wig, which was misshapen from years in a box, and was startled by her words.

"Were you going to ask me about this?" He dug his fork absently in the hunk of meat on his plate, unsatisfied with it anyway. Too tough, Effie had never been the greatest cook. "This is the friend who sent you the expensive clothes?" She nodded as though ashamed, and he leaned back in his chair. "If it's what you want, then fine. We'll go."

"We…we don't have to. I just thought a vacation would be good for us. We've made so much progress, Haymitch-"

"Effie, it's fine." He repeated, a bit more sternly. "You're right; it will be good for us." As though to prove his point, he reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. The quiver of her body over the light touch was unexpected, and he noticed her eyes darkening.

"Maybe we should go to bed early tonight." She said after a moment. They hadn't had sex since that tense time on the table, and Haymitch wasn't exactly ready to get into another fight. What if it didn't work out again? And why was Effie suddenly so determined to get him into bed?

But she was already up and leaving him in front of a dinner he would never finish eating. She called for him after a few minutes of silence and Haymitch couldn't resist. They both had needs.

When he reached the bedroom, he found she had locked herself away in the bathroom. He shrugged and pulled off his shirt and pants, crawling under the blankets and relaxing into the plethora of pillows Effie had dug out that day. Ever since he had given her the birthday dinner, even after accusing her of cheating, Effie had been fairly nicer. He loved that she was trying to get back to her old self – but at the same time he was terrified. What if she wanted to move to the Capitol after this "vacation" with her nameless friend? He didn't exactly trust this other man's intentions, and he knew how easily led Effie was.

The door to the bathroom opened and he heard heels clicking as she approached the bedroom door. Tilting his head around the pile of blankets he had created, Haymitch was pleasantly surprised to see her leaning against the doorframe in an outfit he had never seen before. It was something she must have found earlier, and had been planning to wear.

Which created even more questions for him but he didn't feel like asking them just yet. Besides, he was quite enjoying this change of heart.

Crimson red heels and thigh high black leggings, a black lace garter belt that attached to a red lingerie set. It was Capitol made and far too done up for his taste, but he appreciated the effort. She was still sexier than ever in the corset combo. She slowly stepped up to the bed with a sheepish grin, doing a turn so he could see both sides of the outfit.

"You like?" He couldn't say anything coherent. He just got up and pulled her onto the bed with him. Effie let out a squeal as he pushed her down and began to kiss her on every piece of bare flesh he could reach. "I guess that's a yes." She gasped, hands sliding through his hair as his teeth grazed her inner thigh. He unclasped her garter belt and slid it off, careful to leave her leggings and shoes on.

"You are so…" He trailed off, unsure of which word to use. Beautiful, sexy, amazing, all of them described her. But she didn't seem to care what word he was going to use. Her head was thrown back and she was mewling for him to touch her. Slowly, teasing her the best he could afford to, Haymitch pulled her panties off and tossed them to the floor. He rested his face between her thighs, gripping at her hips to keep them from bucking as his tongue darted inside of her for just a few tastes.

God, he missed how she reacted to everything he did. This was the old Effie, the Effie he loved so much. The Effie that was pleading for him to just fuck her already.

"Tsk, tsk. You know I can't do that." He said, crawling back up her body to whisper in her ear. "Not until you _beg_." She groaned, hands scraping at his chest as she tried to think of something to say other than what he wanted. In a quick movement, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you, Haymitch. God, please…" She stared up at him with doe eyes that only set him off more. He rubbed his pelvic bone against hers; free hand undoing the front of her corset ties enough to cup her breast. "_Haymitch_." She gasped, trying her hardest not to moan and give him the satisfaction. But he wanted this just as much as she did, and he released her wrists to pull off his boxers and toss them over the side of their bed. She sat up a bit, attempting to take off the rest of her corset, but he stopped her.

"I like this outfit, leave it." He growled. She flopped back with a huff, fingers tracing across her neck as she waited for him. When he finally entered her, they both made noises that couldn't possibly be human. Effie's legs wrapped firmly around his thrusting hips, heels scraping across his skin with each movement as his lips worked across the exposed skin of her half undone top. The mews that came out of her, he hadn't heard in such a long time. It was one of the many things he missed about her. He missed making her feel good; he missed doing this without so much pain and hatred. He even missed the way one of her hands always gripped the back of his neck and the other curled around their surrounding blankets.

"Haymitch, I…" She tried, air cutting off as he picked up his speed. He liked it when she could barely speak; it meant he was doing his job right. Blowing her mind. She continued trying to say something, but it kept getting stuck in her throat.

"You feel so good." He murmured, nipping at her jaw. She threw her head back, whispering something about being close and how it just felt amazing. He smiled against her skin, biting his lower lip to keep from saying something sarcastic about her being faster than a man.

But he found he couldn't say anything at all. Her back had arched as his teeth reached her ear, her nails clawed at his back and her mouth hung open in a silent moan before she finally collapsed under him. It wasn't long before he followed her, blinking the white hot light from behind his eyes. It was intense, their combining orgasms. Something neither of them had experienced in a long time. And they were both speechless when he finally stopped moving.

Haymitch pulled off her shoes and corset as a courtesy, tucking her under the blankets before joining her with a tired grunt. In the darkness, they both regained their breath and stared at the ceiling, wrapped in each other's limbs.

"I love you." She whispered, finally able to say what she had been trying to for a while. He smiled through the darkness. She wasn't looking for a response and it wasn't long before there were soft snores escaping her. Maybe his gesture on her birthday had actually helped them a lot more than he had thought. After all, they finally slept together and it hadn't ended up in fighting and tears.

And she had said she loved him.


End file.
